


An Unexpected Help

by Shtrigga



Category: The Almighty Johnsons, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Michele is a savior and badass, from Auckland to Middle-Earth, implied Fili/Michele, takes place after 3x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shtrigga/pseuds/Shtrigga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the real goddess with the real Yggdrasil appears on Ravenhill in the middle of the Battle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Today being a sad day for Fili fans, I've decided to start the translation of my Russian fic "Нежданное спасение" or "An unexpected help"   
>  featuring   
>  very much alive sons of Durin   
>  angry but sweet Michele   
>  useless stick of uselessness (not really)   
>  and Martin "Heimdall-works-in-mysterious-ways" Larsen

“You do realize this is an unforgivable thing?” Martin asks, regret in his voice.

“You can say whatever you want but I don’t consider myself guilty!” Michele folds her arms frowning at him.

“The simple fact is you’re a mean depraved goddess. You don’t know the price of a human life. That’s why you should be taught a lesson. Maybe you will actually learn something from it. Maybe you’ll even thank me,” he says. There’s a slightly manic gleam in his eyes and a funny small smile on his lips.

 _He is crazy, he’s definitely crazy._ That’s what Michele thinks while carefully moving away from Martin. What is she even doing in his house? Was her petty childish revenge worth the company of this freaking psycho? Yeah, well, it was _her_ who threatened his precious sister with a knife but she didn’t intend to kill her! She was just driven by jealousy and wanted to make a point. Nothing personal.

“What do I have to thank you for?” she asks mechanically, even though her brain goes in a different direction.

_If he wanted to kill me, he would a long time ago, if he wanted to let me go – the same. So, why the fuck did he drag me into this room?_

“Among other things, at least for this,” Martin smiles and reaches behind his back only to demonstrate a short, one meter long stick of a weirdly familiar shape. 

“Yggdrasil?” Michele is struck. “But… it was… Mike destroyed it.”

“Not all of it. You’re forgetting that I’m Heimdall. I was the one to turn off that wood chipper and pull out Yggdrasil. It was way too easy to replace it with a regular stick while you’ve all been busy with yourselves.”

“What?! But… why?”

“They won’t need it anymore. For you, on the other hand, it may come in handy. Considering the place you’re going to.”

“What are you even talking about?” she demands.

Martin spreads his hands in an apologetic gesture as he suddenly throws the stump of the sacred tree. “Catch it!”

Blindly, without even giving it much thought Michele catches Yggdrasil. It feels so habitual and normal in her hand. But as soon as the smooth wooden stick contacts with her skin, the world as she knows it vanishes in a white mist.

“What the fuck?” she thinks to herself because the setting has drastically changed.


	2. Chapter 2

Michele finds herself… she doesn’t even know exactly where. As far as the eye can see, there are only snow-covered mountains. A bitter cold wind sweeps around her, and to make things worse, the only thing she wears is a knee-length light dress. Her legs start to cover with goosebumps. 

_Here it is. Revenge for the attempted murder of Frigg. Now I’m gonna freeze to death._

She heard that Heimdall could travel between the worlds and now is lucky enough to experience it personally. 

_Is this even our world, or that jerk sent me to fucking Asgard? Shit, shit, shit!_

She’s been deported god knows where to, and now no one will ever find out where to look for her. Who even needs her? Mike doesn’t, obviously. Anders, of course, will be upset but won’t lift a finger. And as for Ingrid and Stacey… she wouldn’t count on these two… 

Michele looks tiredly at Yggdrasil that is more of a cane now, really, than a magic stick. 

_And why would he give it to me? Is it even working as usual or at half power?_

Shuffling her feet, trying to preserve body heat she looks around thinking about what to do next. There is no sign of habitation or people on the silvered stony plateau but in the distance, closer to the mountain group, she sees something that looks suspiciously like the steps. 

_The steps? Here?_

At first sight one might’ve believed the place was desolate. But after a few minutes Michele can swear she is able to hear a low rumble as of the vibration of the ground. A muffled metallic reverberation echoes through the mountain range as if… thousands of swords are descending on one another. _What a stupid thought!_ But then she hears distant, very distant screams and groans of pain. 

“What kind of place is it?” she wonders quietly, surprised by how high her voice is. 

Stunned by sudden transportation to the world of all things icy and cold (Ty would appreciate the joke) and somewhat thrown off by unfamiliar strange sounds, Michele can’t get hold of herself. Her accustomed sarcasm and skepticism are vanished. The irrational fear rises instead, slowly but surely. She feels vulnerable. She isn’t even sure she’ll be able to come back. And as for this world… all her instincts scream this is something big. Something different. The surrounding scenery pours hostility. 

At some point she realizes she’s not the one who feels this hostility. It’s Sjofn.

_Well, I’ll have to sort it out by myself, as usual._

Michele walks slowly to the worn-away, rocky flight of steps leading upwards and looks with anguish at her feet. With high heels like these it’s more likely for her to fall down and smash her head than die of hypothermia. She sits on a stone to take them off, stops for a second, pondering what would be the best. Then she shoves one shoe in the deep, narrow gap between stones and starts to push. 

_Come on, break!_

Three minutes later both heels are torn-off. Michele smiles as she puts on her upgrated shoes that are now evidently more comfortable. It was a victory but a small one. Having aimed her annoyance at breaking those heels, the woman finally restores the cheerful mood. Now Michele feels confident. And furious. She is eager to find all the answers immediately. 

_And what’s with those sounds?_

Shivering from a gust of chill wind, she begins to climb upstairs. At first Yggdrasil helps Michele move forward but later on the useless stick only slows her down. But it would be so unwise to throw away the only valuable article she had. 

_Fucking Heimdall… Someday I’ll get to you, you bastard…_

She climbs higher and higher, curses on her lips, imagining with sadistic pleasure what she’s going to do when she meets Martin again. The blinding blizzard becomes stronger and more violent as her skin prickles from the cold. 

“No, I’m not killing you just yet. First I’ll make you take me back home”, she mutters through her teeth. “Then ask Axl to hold you and punch you in the face. And only then kill.” 

Soon Michele starts to feel like she’s naked. The dress doesn’t really save from the wind, her fingers go numb, she loses all sensation in her feet. Whenever they touch each other, it’s like touching someone else’s body. 

_Maybe these steps don’t lead anywhere? Maybe she’s doing it for nothing? Okay, that’s enough, Michele! There is no other way._

Suddenly something has changed. That weird rumble that has almost gone, she can hear it again. Only much louder. Three-dimensional. She knows she’s close. 

Summoning all her strength, Michele passes the last few steps, and she sees a small court with a half-broken-down fortress. Behind it there are archways, halls and passages leading to the darkness, pillars and stairs, all wrecked and powdered with snow. 

But at this particular moment she honestly doesn’t give a shit about fancy architecture of the different world. Because the scene beneath her is far more breathtaking. Completely forgotten how to breathe, Michele gazes at the vast plain under the mountain. 

_Whoa!_

Before her very eyes there are thousands of small silhouettes fighting. It seems she was right about the swords. The whole spectacle reminds her of some grandiose epic fantasy film. Only this is for real. Even from a great distance she can see heads chopped off, bodies pierced, people screaming with pain and rage. 

Michele is speechless. She forgets for a second about cold weather, forgets what to do and who she is. She is enthralled by the scale and horror of dozens of people dying at this very moment. 

She was new to violent deaths, especially in such quantities. Patients in the hospital usually died peacefully of old age or of injuries on the table. But this _carnage_ looked more realistic than anything Michele has ever seen in her life. 

Her body is hardly able to deal with shock, her feet failed her. Surprised by that reaction, Michele decides to lean against a big rock. And just in time, because she is successfully hidden from the eyes of uninvited visitors who appear from one of the passages.

Having heard heavy rattling footsteps, Michele looks out from her improvised shelter only to hide back, cursing. Within five meters of her there are four… creatures. She’s not able to examine their disfigured, blue-white faces but is perfectly sure those _aren’t_ humans. She overcomes her fear as she tries to look out one more time, only slower and more careful because she has absolutely no desire to meet these creatures face to face. 

_Who the fuck are they?!_

One of «the pale ones», as Michele named them, yells something in a strange tongue, pointing at one of the passages, next-door to the one they just left. The others agree and depart in the darkness, waving their various swords.

 _Guess I shouldn’t follow these guys…_

This dangerous encounter, however, helps her get warm. The heart pounds faster with adrenaline running through her veins. She grabs Yggdrasil as some sort of a weapon musing which way she should choose to go. 

Suddenly there are different sounds somewhere far to her right. And they're more _like a human speech._

“Don’t know what kind of monsters were those but I bet they can’t speak English,” the brunette concludes and says goodbye to the battlefield. Luckily the sounds were coming from the opposite side to that by which the pale ones had left.

It takes her a few minutes to reach the destination. Michele hides behind multiple rock debris as she sees three men engaged in a heated argument. 

“Look like people…” she thinks with a gleam of hope. 

One of them is a man dressed in a very peculiar worn blue robe. 

“You have to leave here, now,” he is clearly nervous. “Azog has another army attacking from the North. This watchtower will be completely surrounded. There’ll be no way out.” 

A bold, tattooed fellow with an impressive beard comes forward, ignoring the guy in the robe.

“We are so close. That Orc scum is in there. I say we push on.” 

The man he was addressing to is supposedly their leader as Michele decides. At least, he acts that way. 

“No! That's what he wants. He wants to draw us in.” 

He falls silent, terror-stricken. Then adds quietly: “This is a trap.”

Michele purses her lips maliciously. _A trap?! Awesome!_ Why didn’t she stay on that rocky plateau? On the sweet, safe, quiet plateau? It was way better than being slaughtered by one of those tough guys. And it’s not necessarily true that this little trio will show much friendliness. 

_Oh, if only she gets her hands on Heimdall…_

“Find Fili and Kili. Call them back.”

_Nice… There’re two more._

Michele leans back, wondering what she should do. Hide? She may, of course, but she can’t stay here forever, and if the army arrives, they’ll probably find her. Then what, show herself? They aren’t likely to be happy about some half-frozen chick with a stick in her hands. And yet, this option sounds better than the first one. 

Summoning up all courage to leave the shelter, Michele is stopped by the drum-beating noises coming from above. 

At the top of the half-ruined tower she notices another pale one. He’s dragging some guy by the scruff of his neck. Michele shifts gaze to three men downstairs, and judging by their pain-twisted faces, it is one of them. 

She looks up again, her heart sank. The Pale one laughs and lifts the guy over the edge. Michele can’t quite see his face because of the snowstorm but this desperate and horrifying situation makes her knees tremble. Michele presses herself against the stone, breath hold, yet again forgetting about how cold it is. Now she’s more worried about the fate of the unfortunate warrior. Even though it is painfully evident. 

The guy shouts something incoherent to his mates. There is something in his voice that makes Michele tense. Sounds somehow almost familiar. She screws up her eyes in order to take a better view of his face but all she can make out is the colour of his hair – the golden mane. 

Three men are petrified like icy statues. The whole thing looks like a really very bad dream. She suddenly feels extremely sorry for the blond guy. 

He shouts louder and more desperate than the first time. “Run!” 

And then there is a sudden jerk of his limbs. 

Michele jumps, struck by two facts. First, that the guy was impaled. Fucking _impaled_. And second, she recognized his voice. Hell, she knew it so well, so sickeningly well, she would tell it from anyone else’s.

“Anders?” she whispers in sheer panic.

 _No, it can’t be him. How did he end up here? It’s just the voice._

But it is definitely him. 

_If Heimdall put me here, he would be able to take Anders as well. You never know what could upset Martin these days. Oh, Anders…_

Now she is almost one hundred percent sure. Distant features seem familiar now. Anders’s body goes limp, spitted heart-high. He is still twitching, trying to find his footing, and then… the Pale one lets him go.

Michele gasps covering her mouth with her hand as the body falls down. She wouldn’t wish such a horrible way to die even on her worst enemy. She needs to fix this. 

So, she starts to count.

_One… two… three… four…_

She has three minutes at best to bring Anders back to life. 

_Come on, get the hell out of here. Go fight or something. I don’t want you to see me._

_Eight… nine… ten.._

One more young dark-haired guy appears from out of the blue and runs up the stairs in rage. 

_Nineteen… twenty… twenty-one…_

The leader and the bearded man hurry in the precisely opposite direction.

_Go! I don’t need you here! Thirty-four… thirty-five… thirty-six…_

And the last one to leave is the man in the blue robe.

_It’s time._

Michele runs like she’s never ran before, her ruined shoes slipping upon a sheet of ice. She jumps over the stairs, not afraid to fall anymore. She needs to act fast. When Anders was thrown in the pile of garbage, she had more time because Johnson was still alive. Lost a lot of blood but alive. In this case, however, she was sure he’d broken his spine falling from up there. Not mentioning a stab wound. 

_Fifty-one.. fifty-two…_

There he is. Downstairs. 

Michele runs down the last flight and hardly manages to stop, dropping on her knees.

“Anders?” she calls softly, examining his prostrate body. 

Anders looks... weird. Dressed the same way as those two. Long, wavy hair, moustache, _a lot_ of stupid braids, his nose is a bit bigger than she remembers. But other than that, it is _definitely_ him, Michele’s ready to cross her heart.

 _So what? Maybe he got here earlier, had time to grow a bush of hair? Who knows._ She certainly won’t be able to find it out until he’s recovered. 

Grabbing Yggdrasil, Michele prays for its energy to be enough and then carefully places her hand on the wound. There’s a familiar, reassuring light coming out of her palms, so, at least it works. Staying still for a couple of seconds she begins to slide her hand around all the places where fatal injuries may be: the back of the head, the chest, the abdomen. 

But Anders is still motionless. 

“God dammit, Anders”, Michele whispers angrily. “You have to live. You must live. And don’t you dare leave me here alone!”

She throws Yggdrasil away and performs CPR. She’s so worked up right now that her shoulders shake with anxiety.

“Don’t you! Dare! Die on me!” she is pressing down on his chest, and to her relief, Anders finally blinks, taken with a fit of coughing.

_Thank Odin._

Michele leans wearily over the man while he looks around like a lunatic trying to focus his eyes.

“Anders? How are you feeling?” she asks gently, heavily breathing.

“Kili…”

“Sorry?”

“Where is Kili?” the blond gets up abruptly, apparently intending to grab woman’s hand, but he can scarcely stand, a little sick and dizzy in the head. So, he falls back again on the ground.

 _Now, this looks familiar,_ Michele scoffs.

“Anders, do you hear me?” she asks again. The blond is hardly able to unglue his eyelids. “Look, you just died. You were gone for a while, so don’t try to make any sudden movements”, Michele looks into his blue eyes trying to catch a glimpse of understanding. 

“I died?” he repeats.

“Yes. You were out there for almost two minutes. But now you’re back on track, congratulations!” Michele manages a careless smile.

The blond opens his eyes again. He frowns at her pensively, as if wishing to ask dozens of questions but has no strength to even make a single sound. 

“Fine, I’ll make it easier,” she pities. “You were captured by one of this pale monsters.”

“Azog…”

“Yeah, whatever. What kind of freak is he?”

“An orc..”

“An orc?” Michele raises an eyebrow. “I thought orcs were only in the movies… Anyway, this Azog stabbed you with a sword and threw you down that cliff. But you were very lucky to have me around with Yggdrasil… I hope you remember what Yggdrasil is? …and I managed to bring you back. It looks like you owe me twice now, Anders,” she finishes proudly.

The blond stares at her, even more sad and pensive than earlier.

“What now?”

“This is all great, no doubt,” he croaks, “but who are _you_?”

Michele pauses, perplexed.

“Who am I? Are you kidding me, Anders?”

“And who is this… Anders?” he asks reluctantly, licking his dry lips. 

“You are.”

Memory lapse starts to worry her. What if all this has been an after-effect of being beyond the veil? What if irreversible changes in the brain have taken place? 

“No, I’m not him... I’m Fili. My name is… Fili.”

Michele draws back from him, not knowing what to think. Her body finally starts to calm down, the heart beats slower, and the coldness comes back. Hugging herself, she clears the snow and sits beside so-called Fili. _What a ridiculous name…_

“So, you don’t remember anything?” she continues impatiently.

“I do”, he insists. “I remember… all my life perfectly. But I was never this… what’s-his-name…

“Anders.”

“Anders,” the blond repeats with a weak nod.

“Oh…”

But could she be wrong? This Fili looks exactly like him. Like a dead-ringer, a doppelganger. But not him. This one’s too… _different._

Fili tries to get on his feet again but is still too weak, so he slips and falls in the snow, blinking rapidly.

“So… what is _your_ name?”

“Michele,” she grumbles, a bit disappointed, that she ran for nothing, only to save the wrong guy.

“Michele… can I ask you a favor, please?” he says quietly, looking timidly at her. 

The woman locks eyes with him, it gives her chills. 

_What an astounding resemblance… Even the voice is the same… Except that Anders will never ask for anything in a sweet, gentle tone like that. So unusual. His voice but not his character._

“Yep,” she nods benevolently.

No one’s ever asked her anything in such a tone.

“Can you, please… find my brother… Kili?”

“Your _brother_?”

_There you go, now he has a brother. And certainly not one of those Johnson clowns._

“Tell him that… I’m alive.”

Michele vaguely recalls some dark-haired guy, rushing to the upper levels after Fili’s been thrown down. She gets up shaking the snow off her dress. 

_If someone put me in the hot tub, the water would be cold in five minutes,_ she thinks as she rubs her legs. 

“You know what?” the goddess begins cunningly. “I’ll find your Kili on one condition.”

 _No matter how polite he is, I won’t let anybody push me around._

“Yes?” Fili raises his eyes, puzzled.

“If you lend me some of your clothes. I’m frozen to the bones. Probably literally. 

“Yeah… you’re dressed strangely,” he admits, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Such a short garment!”

“Didn’t get a chance to get changed,” Michele snaps expecting him to continue with some obscene joke as Anders would do but she’s proven wrong. 

“Of course,” Fili shakes his head noticing woman’s bluish legs, “yes, sure, I’ll give something or you might catch cold.” 

Michele grins mockingly.

_How thoughtful of him._

Fili unbuttons his grayish-blue coat and gives it to her, this activity is almost too much for his feeble fingers. Catching sight of her shoes, he then kindly offers his boots but the brunette makes a negative gesture. 

_It feels so nice to have extra clothes on._

“Just so you know,” she suddenly turns to him, “I would go look for your brother either way but I really needed to get warm first.” 

“I figured,” a light, thankful smile hovers over his lips.

“Okay, that’s what we’re gonna do. You lie here and don’t go anywhere. If you see orcs – pretend to be dead. I mean, in your condition you don’t even need to. And… I’ll be back soon. 

Wrapped in the warm coat, she takes Yggdrasil and strides to the rocky steps following Kili’s trace. 

“Michele…”

“Yes?” 

“Thank you… for saving me…”

Michele says nothing in response, doesn’t even look back but the smile breaks over her lips. She couldn’t recall Anders ever thanking her for that time.

***

As she came up the steps, she doubts it’s possible to find Kili in this orc-packed maze but the problem is suddenly solved when Michele comes across the first beheaded body. All she needs to do now is follow the dead orcs trail and soon she’s able to hear the growing sounds of battle. Someone screams frantically. Michele decides her life is too valuable to take the risk, and she walks way slower, hiding in the shadows.

Soon the sounds become more distinct. She sits behind the corner and peers out carefully. A terrible sight meets her gaze - a huge orc and the dark-haired guy fighting viciously, the latter’s trying to protect some red-haired girl.

_That must be Kili._

Michele looks at them anxiously, too scared to approach.

And then the orc grabs Kili’s arm and punches him in the face. Considering that this fist is just about the size of guy’s head, it must’ve hurt like a son of a bitch. Kili loses his balance while the pale bastard raises his poleaxe to strike.

Despite all the efforts of the red-headed to help Kili, the orc slowly impales him. 

Experiencing different kinds of horrors in the last half an hour, Michele doesn’t feel too shocked anymore. Well, surely, her legs are suddenly weak, a cold shiver runs down her spine when the tiny flame of life goes out in Kili’s eyes, but mostly she feels fine. Or so she thinks.

Somehow the thought of having the magic stick, that can undo whatever the orc just did, makes Michele smile triumphantly. 

“Suck it, you asshole,” she hisses between her tight-clenched teeth. 

The next moment, blinded by anger, the read-headed rushes at the murderer. Now all Michele has to do is wait for them to kill each other. Because she’s not very eager to be seen by this ugly musclehead. If he pierced chainmail like a piece of paper, she wouldn’t push her luck in the light dress. 

Fortunately, barely a minute passes before the red-headed falls down the precipice, taking the orc with her. 

“Good girl”, Michele comments on her acrobatic jump, “and now take two.”

She sits beside Kili, touching his great bleeding wound, wincing in disgust. Her palm is completely covered with sticky warm blood. 

_Ugh, I hate blood!_

During all her medical career Michele successfully avoided any contacts with the patients. She found ways. When she got Yggdrasil, it became easier – quick interview, a momentary touch, and a patient is okay. But that accident with Anders and this one now, when you actually can feel life leaving the body – that’s the worst. 

Slowly but surely, even this hell of a wound is closing, and one second later Kili takes a deep breath, then opens his eyes a little, seeing nothing. Only now Michele notices the wet tracks of tears on his cheeks and feels oh-so-uncomfortable. 

“Welcome back, Kili!” she starts as cheerfully as she can. 

Kili turns his head at the sound of her voice trying desperately to focus. 

“What – ” he whispers hoarsely, but runs out of energy to finish the phrase. He makes another attempt but all he can produce is a weak inarticulate squeak as if there’s no air in his lungs. 

“Look, Kili… Hey! Get it together!” she gives him a couple of light slaps. 

The brunet looks at her in amazement and sighs, composing himself. 

“To spare us both your stupid questions, I’ll give you a short version, okay? For starters, my name is Michele –“

“What did you – ”

“Shush, shut up and listen. Believe me, you better listen. You were just killed by an orc. That you do remember, I hope?”

He nods weakly. “But…”

“But _now_ you’re alive. Once and for all. Don’t thank me.”

Kili sighs again, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Why did you… save me?..” 

“Oh yeah… forgot to tell you”, Michele smiles knowingly, patting his knee. “Fili’s alive as well”.

“What?!”

He stares at the woman unbelievingly, his eyes wide open, hands shaking. Michele keeps enjoying the moment. It’s nice to be a bearer of good news for a change. 

“You’re lying,” he whispers.

“Nope.”

“But…”

“Trust me, your brother’s safe and sound. In the same condition as you are, of course. Lying on the ground, not able to string two words together, but it’ll wear off in a couple of hours, I promise.”

“But he fell… I saw his body…” his voice falters over the last word.

_Shit. I hope he’s not gonna sob. That's all I need right now._

“See this stick… I mean, this stuff?”

“Are you a sorceress?” he sniffs loudly.

“No. Actually I am a goddess. And I can heal any wound.”

Kili gets up very slowly, constantly blinking, the real pain in his temples. He pants because of the massive blood loss. 

“But Fili _died_ !”

“Not that long ago. I fixed him.”

“If you’re telling the truth… Oh Mahal… I so hope you’re telling the truth…”

And then, all of a sudden, Kili hugs her, surprisingly firm and gentle for someone who just came back from the dead. Michele sits there obediently, not knowing if she should respond.

Finally Kili pulls himself away, his eyes shining, a light smile on his lips, uncertain but happy.

“Where is he?”

“I would gladly take you to him but you can barely walk.”

“I’ll try to make it.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So, you’re a goddess?”

That is the first question she’s asked after brothers are reunited and done with hugging each other. 

Fili is confused. “Wait, what do you mean, «a goddess»?” 

“I’m not exactly a goddess per se,” Michele tries to explain, “It’s more like one of them lives inside of me.”

The brothers stare at her mindlessly.

“Okay… well, you could say that I’m the living incarnation of the Norse goddess, Sjofn, who has lived a long time ago. And her spirit is inside me now, and it gives me certain… powers. Anyway, it’s a long story, never mind… - she sighs with a wave of her hand.

“A Norse goddess?” Kili specifies. “Never heard of them.” 

“And you won’t. Because they don’t exist here, apparently.” 

“Meaning – ” Fili begins.

“I’m not from this world.”

“Are there any other worlds?” Kili continues, puzzled.

“Yep. And more than I would’ve liked.” 

“So, how did you end up here?” Fili asks.

“Erm… let’s say, I pissed off a guy I shouldn’t have messed with.” 

“Is he a god?”

“He is. But his special power is not healing but moving between the worlds. So he’s thrown me here,” she waves a big hand around, “at this dump.”

“Hey! It’s not a dump! It’s our home!” Kili exclaims indignantly.

Michele only quirks her eyebrow at him. The grateful brothers provided her with some clothes, so now alongside with Fili’s coat she wears warm and very big gloves, legs are wrapped in a furry mantle.

“ This _is_ a dump, believe me. I could’ve not argue with you, but after seeing that massive slaughter you call the battle and a very graphic execution of your brother, nothing can make me change my mind. 

“And in your world there are no wars, then?” Fili wonders good-naturedly.

“There are but… just a few, and besides the cold steel days are over.

“Oh, have you invented something else?” the blond leans forward, an eager glow in his eyes. Weapons of any kind have always been one of his favorite subjects. 

“You would be surprised,” Michele chuckles. “There’s such a thing called a gun, and with it you don’t necessarily need to come close to your enemy. You aim, you shoot, and the small bullet goes right in the head.”

“So, it’s like shooting a bow, isn’t?” Kili asks.

“Not exactly, no. I’m not an expert, but generally speaking it can shoot quite a lot per second.” 

“Whoa!” they both marvel.

A little silence follows as each of them imagines how easy it would’ve been to get rid of the orcs if they had had guns. 

“You know, Michele,” Fili breaks in, “you better not tell anyone else that you are a goddess. It can give the wrong impression.” 

“Yeah, you better say you’re a sorceress,” Kili nods in agreement.

“A sorceress?” Michele frowns, hesitating.

“At least, in our _dump_ they are natural. Here, you even have a staff!” 

Michele gives Kili a scathing look, the latter winks slyly at her, and that makes them both giggle all of a sudden. A moment later they’re accompanied by Fili’s cat smile. 

“All right, I get it, we’re all happy to be alive, but we can’t just sit here now,” the blond says when they stopped. “The battle’s not over yet.” 

“We have to find uncle and Dwalin,” Kili nods, ready to fight. 

“Especially our uncle because… he saw Azog…” Fili falters, “killing me... You know Thorin –nothing will stop him until I’m revenged.”

“I’ve seen three guys. Which one is your uncle?” Michele asks. “The one with the beard, the shorty in the blue robe or…” she pauses, not really knowing how to explain what she felt.

“Or,” the brothers agree simultaneously. “That was him. Thorin Oakenshield.”

“The one in the blue robe, as you were saying, is probably Bilbo. We need to find him too, the halfling won’t last long against the orcs.”

“And the one with the beard,” Fili says, hiding a smile in his moustache, “is Dwalin.”

Michele raises her eyebrow. “So, you guys are the nephews of the leader of the Company?” 

“How did you know that Thorin is our leader?” 

“Maybe I don’t like people but I sure can understand their nature,” she shrugs . 

“Do you remember which way he went?” Kili asks.

“I do, only… why do _you_ need that?” 

“Because we’re going after him!” Fili’s finished with shoving his numerous knives in his pockets and boots. 

But Michele cools his enthusiasm. “Sorry, guys… But you are. Not going. Anywhere.”

“I’m sorry?” the blond frowns.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she repeats tightly.

The brothers get to their feet simultaneously, a dark, gloomy look on their faces.

_Oh wow, and I’m suddenly the number one enemy! Next time you get an idea of saving someone, think again, Michele!_

Michele also gets up, her arms folded in a stubborn gesture. Even though she can hardly be described presentable – her legs bluish-white like frozen chicken, her hair tousled, shoes ruined, wearing a formless coat – but she could care less. She won’t allow them get into more trouble. 

“Look at yourself!” Michele exclaims critically. “You barely even stand, you died recently, and now you wanna get yourself killed again? You know what? I didn’t run around and save your asses for some stupid orc to ruin my work!”

“Why, then?” Fili asks quietly.

“Why what?”

“Why did you save us?”

“Because…” she sighs tiredly. “Because you, Fili, look exactly like one of my friends.” 

“Anders.”

_I wonder if he knows how weird it is to hear this name from him. The same face, the same voice, and yet..._

“Yes, Anders. Who knew you wasn’t him, eh? 

“And if you did, you wouldn’t save me?” Fili wonders with sudden sadness.

Michele purses her lips as she looks him right in the eyes, and the look on his face says it all. She’s never seen anything like that in Anders…

“Of course, I would!” she wilts under the reproachful glance of the blue in his eyes. “I’m not completely heartless, you know… But don’t change the subject!” Michele folds her arms again.

Fili’s expression softens a bit as he smiles gently.

“I will be better on my own than with two stumbling cripples.”

“We’re fine!” to prove his point Kili strides determinedly in front of her. Well… he tries, because it takes him a couple of steps before he sways and staggers.

“I see how _fine_ you are. You better stay here.”

“You don’t understand, Michele! Thorin won’t believe you!” Kili exclaims. 

“He will when I tell him you’re both in one piece.” 

“So what? I wouldn’t believe a woman who came to me in my nephews’ clothes. It would look like looting to me.

“So, I’m a looter now?!” she snaps, the deadly glitter in her eyes.

“Hey, easy!” Fili interrupts in the soothing tone. “Kili, Michele, we’re all friends here. Let’s not fight.”

“Friends?” she scoffs. “Since when have we become friends? I barely even know you.”

“Since you've saved Fili and me from death,” Kili butts in. “Even though your primary aim wasn’t so altruistic but… the facts remains and –”

“And we owe you.” 

“We’re on your side.”

“Look, Michele, I really do understand why you don’t want us to come but we _have to_ ,” Fili spreads his hands. “We’ll go slower, and we won’t get into a fight if that’s what you want.”

“I do,” she nods, a bit pouty. “Fine… what the hell! We’re going together.” 

“And while we’re at it, we’ll tell you all the interesting things about our _dump_ ,” Kili concludes teasingly, grabbing his stuff.

Michele rolls her eyes. 

_I regret already..._

***

The situation which was later described by Fili and Kili as “if we hadn’t bickered with you for so long, everything would’ve been fine”, Michele assessed more logically. But they indeed got here in time, nothing to complain about. Why would you come to the beginning of the fight and mess with its following successful ending in the form of Azog’s death, if you could simply skip it and solve all the problems directly on the spot?

So, when shambling, leaning on each other, brothers and Michele eventually find Thorin, he is on the ice, just about to be pierced by yet another blade.

It costs Michele a great effort to shut Fili up and keep Kili from rushing to rescue his uncle. She calms them down and reminds that she actually is a healer. Hidden behind a huge rock, they watch the sharp blade enter Thorin’s chest. A muffled groan of pain makes them shiver. Fili is shaking all over, the image of his recent demise haunting him. Kili just wants to protect Thorin, his teeth grind.

“Easy, guys, we’re waiting,” Michele whispers, patting them gently on the shoulders, even though she can’t look up from this ominous scene herself. 

“Oh Mahal, what kind of family are we? Sitting here like coward wargs,” Kili grumbles, annoyed and ready to fight. Fili keeps silence, petrified.

When Azog is finally pinned to the ice, brothers can’t stay still any longer. As Thorin, barely standing the pain, steps back from his archenemy’s body, gasping, he hears cheerful shouts coming from his right.  
“Uncle!!”

Judging by Oakenshield’s changed face, voices of _both_ of his nephews is the last thing he expected to hear. Swaying, he turns towards them. 

Michele stares at them with interest. Despite her mean behavior, she’s always loved happy endings. 

Kili and Fili, both pretty much beaten up and exhausted, rush to their uncle as quickly as they can, and hug him so hard he draws a low breath. 

“Fili…” Thorin grabs him and looks closely at every detail of his nephew’s face. “But how… you are…”

Something sad appears in his eyes, some tragic realization of the imminence of destiny distorts his smile.

“Oh…”

“What is it, uncle?” Kili asks.

“And you too…” Thorin says for no obvious reason. He sinks to his knees, feeling his life fading away.

“Uncle? Michele, come here!”

Michele is the only one to put two and two together, and returns her verdict.

“He assumed that you, Kili, died too. That’s why he can see you both.”

“What!?” Fili sits down beside Thorin. “No, uncle, I’m alive!”

Oakenshield doesn’t respond as he smiles absently, looking up, at the sky filled with dozens of giant eagles. Michele follows his gaze surprised by these mighty birds. She has never seen eagles so big you can fit in their beak. 

Thorin lies on the ground in some sort of trance, smiling at Fili and Kili and eagles. 

“Okay, don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this,” Michele sits next to Thorin and slaps his cheek with all the force she has. 

Stupefied by such an outrageous audacity, Thorin focuses his gaze. 

“Listen here,” Michele looks him right in the eyes. “Your nephews are ALIVE. Fili is alive. Kili is alive. Stop dreaming about the grave. No one’s waiting for you there.”

“That was harsh,” Fili says carefully. In that moment his agitated face looks very much like that of Anders. 

“He’ll live,” Michele replies, with the most satisfied smile. “And what are you waiting for, Kili? Take off his armor, I need an access to the wound!”

Kili obediently does as she asks, displaying the wide cut just in the middle of his chest. 

“Have I mentioned already how much I hate blood?” Michele whispers joylessly. 

The power of Yggdrasil is accumulating in her arms, and as she touches his wound, Thorin’s eyes are fixed on the woman. He doesn’t understand much, doesn’t really care, the brooding look on his face. Fili and Kili watch her too, because they weren’t there to witness the magic stick at work. 

“The light…” Kili says. “Is this normal?”

Michele doesn’t say anything, as a few seconds later she’s finished with Thorin and wiping her covered-in-blood fingers with an expression of disgust.

Oakenshield sits up, examining the scar that has almost disappeared, and looks at them, amazed and confused. 

“Fili…” he murmurs in shaken voice.

“If you’re gonna start with this shit again – ” Michele threatens.

Thorin shrinks from her, but she doesn’t really feel like slapping him one more time. He looks like a wild animal, hair matted and in disarray, hands shaking, clotted blood disfiguring his face. She almost feels sorry for the guy. 

_He’s just willingly sacrificed his life to get to this bastard… How can I blame him?_

“Fili… Kili…” he is short of breath, sobbing, pulling his nephews closer to him.

The younger brother shuts his eyes tightly, his face buried in Thorin’s neck. The older one casts a quick glance at Michele as he mouths: “I’ve never seen him like that.” 

She nods sympathetically in return, giving them a moment to themselves. 

_What a day…_


	4. Chapter 4

It is Michele’s sixth day in Erebor, and she is more and more inclined to describing it as “having a good time”. She had never in her life felt so useful, loved, and respected. 

Thanks to Yggdrasil many were saved on that day. When the orc army had escaped through the underground tunnels and the search of the wounded began, Michele accompanied by the branch of the magic tree became the most popular person. Thorin and other dwarves were practically bowing before her, and that was very flattering. 

But the thing Michele still found more pleasant was hanging out with Fili and Kili. Brothers refused to take her seriously unlike everyone else, so they were able to chat, and joke around, and make snarky comments. She had fun with these two goofs. 

_Especially with Fili._ A dead ringer for Anders, and yet completely different. In his company Michele wanted to be herself because he didn’t judge. Of course if it wasn’t for her new friends among elves and men.

The other day she bumped into him, seating at the table and crunching the numbers, calculating the right amount of gold to give away for rebuilding of Dale. The job for an accountant, not a warrior. Fili was frowning, muttering muffled curses, not very pleased, obviously. 

Michele decided to cheer him up.

“Working hard?”

“Thorin,” he responded, not looking up. “Thought it would be a good idea to put me here.”

“Was it, though?” 

“He said the future heir to the throne has to know how to manage his finances.”

“Oh, poor you,” she sneered.

“Why do I sense mockery in your tone?”

“It’s just that if I had to choose between burying all those dead bodies outside and whatever it is you’re doing – ”

“Fair point,” Fili smiled, and he finally looked at her. “Is that - ?”

“New dress, yeah,” her lips quirked in a slight grin. “Not that short anymore. And more appropriate apparently.”

“Where did you get it?” he asked.

“One of this guys… Bard, right?… he gave it to me. It was very nice of him, actually. He said it belonged to his late wife or something but he’d be glad to share with me.”

“Bard, huh?” Fili repeated, looking dissatisfied.

“I think he likes me,” Michele mused demurely. “Well, the dress isn’t too fancy, but it seems like I don’t have much choice. You know what I was thinking? Maybe I should pay visit to Thranduil?”

“What? Why?” he demanded.

“They should have a lot of girly clothes… Yeah, definitely gonna ask him,” she nodded determinedly, and couldn’t help but laugh at Fili’s disapproving look. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing… It’s just… Thorin won’t be pleased, that’s it,” he stumbled.

“Like I care.”

“I think you care just enough, Michele,” Fili said softly. “Don’t think less of yourself.”

She smirked, as she couldn’t figure out why he acted that way. It was really getting awkward, his pensive eyes fixed upon her sometimes, or the things he said. She wasn’t even that attractive to make him do this. 

Maybe there was something… _Wait. Stop it._ It was just nice having Fili around. _Nothing more._

She tried not to think about it.

One more thing she didn’t think about was her own world. She was way too busy. Either way, majestic architecture of Dale and Erebor, awe-inspiring landscapes, mountains, and ridiculously fresh air seemed to her more real than Auckland.

This morning she wakes up really early, at the first streak of dawn, and decides to visit the treasury. It’s not that she is interested in fancy bijouterie or gold. It is this sense of adventure which draws her attention, as well as the intention to find something nice. 

Thorin has been avoiding this place for the last few days, either scared to catch the dragon sickness again, or sick of all the things gold and glittering. While Michele had been curing the wounded, Kili and Fili had told her every single detail of their crusade, and now she knew everything. The mere phenomenon of the dragon sickness caught her interest as a doctor. She wanted to question Thorin a little, but the latter wasn’t so eager, and soon her enthusiasm exhausted itself.

_Hmm.. they sure can make beautiful jewelry._

Michele picks up a ruby tiara off the pile of coins, examining it with admiration. 

_Why do I need it though? Not gonna wear it anyway._

And the tiara falls on the floor.

She amuses herself with other gems for almost half an hour while the first morning red of the sun appears on the horizon. 

_Oh, that one’s lovely._

Underneath the pile of coins Michele sees thin silver chain which leads to her discovering an exquisite elaborate pendant. More than satisfied by the found object she thinks it’s time to wrap up. The pendant clasped in her hand, she saunters into the room where the dwarves were sleeping. 

Suddenly everything disappears before her eyes in a white flash. Michele shudders, startled. Five seconds later there goes the second one. 

_What the –?_

Michele blinks, unable to take in what is happening. Bright, blinding light fills everything around, pierces her body as if some kind of weird electricity. Something is separating from her soul. Something very important. 

"Oh no, not that!" it dawns upon her.

And then everything ends. 

She opens her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

She is back.

***

There is a loud banging on the door .

“Martin, I know you’re in here! Open up, you prick! I’m not going anywhere!”

Her fist starts to hurt. 

“I need to go back!”

A few more heavy but unsuccessful kicks, and Michele sits on the porch, gasping angrily.

Suddenly she hears footsteps approaching the door, and someone opens it. 

_Finally._

“Michele?!” there is a man on the doorstep, wearing only jeans.

“Mike?”

“Where have you been?” he inquires, his eyes sharp. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”

“I… I was in some other world… sort of.”

Mike gives her a long, hard look, and then asks her in.

***

Three of them are sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea. Michele told everything that had happened to Mike and Hanna, and the latter admits that Martin was capable to pull such a stunt.

“Orcs, giant eagles, treasuries full of gold… Never thought it could be real,” Mike scoffs, playing with a teaspoon.

“There are so many worlds, Mike. You can’t even imagine the number,” Hanna says. 

“So you know for sure there’s no way back? 

“I’m sorry, Michele. Even if we had godly powers, Martin is gone,” Hanna sighs. 

“It’s just that I can’t understand why I was brought back after he’d died.” 

“Maybe Heimdall’s essence had been connected to the spell that kept you here. Maybe something else… Without Martin we will never know,” Hanna says. 

“So… I guess I’ll never see them again…” Michele mutters, looking pensively at the pendant. 

She didn’t drop it while Sjofn was leaving her body. She didn’t drop it when she was returned back to Auckland. Now this tiny trinket was the only thing proving it was all real. Everything. Somewhere she was needed. Somewhere they were looking for her.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she gets up. “I gotta go, Mike, there’s something I need to do.” 

This idea was hardly the smartest she ever had, but she just wanted so much to see this face again. He will remind her of the Middle-Earth too. Not some souvenir from the treasury. A human being.

She stands in front of the second door this morning, her finger pushing door bell. 

“Michele?” the blond man opens the door, his voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Hello to you too, Anders,” she nods, suddenly beaming.

_Damn I’m gonna miss these stupid braids…_


End file.
